Programmer-in-Law
by Laura Schiller
Summary: Weddings create not only a couple, but a family. D/7, through the eyes of Lewis Zimmerman.


Programmer-In-Law

By Laura Schiller

Based on _Star Trek: Voyager_

Copyright: Paramount

"Your suit's looking a bit tight around the shoulders. Been messing around with your physical parameters again?"

"It's fine."

"Let me just – "

"It's _fine_, Lewis. Leave it."

Lewis Zimmerman smiled wryly to himself as the Doctor batted his hand away from the mobile emitter on his left tuxedo sleeve. If someone had told him eight years ago that he would see one of his "Emergency Medical Hotheads" getting married, he would have had that person committed to a mental institution. And yet here he was – and, strangely enough, he felt more nervous than the Doctor looked.

To distract himself, he looked around at the church in which they were sitting. It was a tall, airy San Francisco cathedral, painted white, with stained-glass windows along both sides of the nave and holographic candles flickering smokelessly along the walls. Above the altar was a screen that flashed with biblical scenes every five seconds, all paintings from previous centuries: blue-cloaked Mary holding her newborn son; Jesus walking on the waves toward his disciples; Jesus handing out his loaves and fishes; a Crucifixion scene, too vivid even for Lewis to look at in detail. He shook his head. If he had needed any proof that the Doctor had evolved lightyears beyond his original programming, this Christian streak would be it. Moonlighting as a priest in one of _Voyager_'s holodeck programs might have something to do with it as well.

"_No one can __prove__ that holograms don't have souls," _he had argued, contrary as ever. _"What I do and don't believe is my business,not yours. Besides, a church wedding would be so much more … picturesque, don't you think?"_

Picturesque, indeed – the people even more so than the building. Lewis peered over his shoulder at his fellow guests: on the Doctor's other side sat Lieutenant Reg Barclay, awkwardly resplendent in his white-and-yellow dress uniform. In the pews across from him, he could see quite a sizable amount of _Voyager _crewmates, only a few of whom he recognized: Admiral Janeway in cream-colored velvet, holding hands with Captain Chakotay; Commander Paris with his baby daughter; Tuvok wearing violet robes and his most stately demeanor; Lieutenant Kim talking cheerfully with a sweet-faced brunette; and last, but not least, Cadet Icheb, adopted son of the bride, who had used so much hair product in honor of the occasion that his short black hair stuck up like a hedgehog's spikes.

In front of the altar stood the priestess, a young Human with a mane of black curls brushing the shoulders of her cassock. She looked on the point of breaking out into a grin; it was not every clergyperson who got to officiate the first wedding in history between a legally sentient hologram and a liberated Borg drone. They'd been lucky to find her. Lewis wondered if she had any surprises up her sleeve; he would not put it past her to smuggle an entire jazz band in among the guests and have them break out into song when the ceremony was over.

However, the entrance of the bridal party wiped the speculations right out of his mind.

"Holy … !"

The Doctor elbowed him to shut him up. Then, remembering the rehearsals, both men rose quickly to their feet.

Seven of Nine came gliding up the aisle on the arm of her aunt Irene Hansen, followed by Commander Torres and Naomi Wildman in matching silver dresses. A few steps in, Ms. Hansen paused to take a small metal cylinder out of her skirt pocket, pressed a few buttons, and Haley appeared: the third bridesmaid, also in silver, projecting herself through the church's holoemitters. All five women moved with grace and dignity, even the half-Ktarian girl, who, though she looked fourteen, was barely eight years old.

Wearing a simple white sheath dress and a crown of white roses on her hair, Seven of Nine was a sight to take anyone's breath away. However, in Lewis' eyes, the most amazing sight in the building was not the bride, but the groom.

It was the strangest feeling, watching a mirror of his own face light up with so much love and wonder. Had he, Lewis, ever looked this way at a woman? And if so, why did it ever have to end?

"Are you all right?" asked the Doctor, glancing over at Lewis with sudden concern.

"Yes, yes. Chuches always make me sneeze," he grumbled, wiping his eyes. "All that dust."

Then he surprised both of them by squeezing the Doctor's shoulder, the closest thing to an affectionate gesture he had ever made.

"If she doesn't make you happy," Lewis whispered, "She'll answer to me."

"Not much danger of that," replied the Doctor. "But I appreciate the gesture."

As he stepped forward to join his bride, and Mother Esperanza's voice began to bounce cheerfully between the cathedral walls, Lewis caught the eye of Ms. Hansen, a few steps away. The woman in the pale pink suit, her gray-blonde hair pinned into an elegant twist, was whispering the words to the ceremony right along with the priestess, as if remembering another wedding, long ago. Her blue eyes shimmered, as if she, too, were affected by –

_Let's call it the dust,_ he thought, nodding to her across the aisle.

He knew exactly how she felt.


End file.
